Chasing Matthew
by MobileWriter
Summary: Matthew Williams lives a rather peaceful life, until he is kidnapped out of the blue by a man he has randomly met and can't count as a stranger. Human AU, Slash (M/M), violence and kidnapping.
1. Touchy feely

Chasing Matthew chapter 1 (Welcome, friend! Thanks for reading, I really appreciate it!)

My name is Matthew Williams. Some people call me Matt. I used to spend most of my time working at a restaurant in the country I love, Norway. It was located near the blue stone in Bergen.

You're about to read about a big chapter of happenings in my life. Weird shit. Let's start a little while before _that_ happened so you won't get confused, shall we?

The sun shone warmly over one of the many cities in Norway, Bergen, comforting young and old to spend the day outside for once. Most of the time it rained, you see.

I checked the tie and apron on my waiter uniform before grabbing my notice book and pen from one of the apron pockets on the white apron I always wore at work. With a bright smile I went outside to see a few guests sitting in the restaurant's black chairs, properly waiting to order.

"Yes, what can I help you with?" I asked professionally while gliding over to the table.  
"We want to order," said the woman, clutching the arm belonging to her husband. He looked like he wanted to leave as he stared stiffly at his Iphone 360. The woman just looked irritated, her cheeks red, puffy and a slight frown showed as she quickly glanced at her children that ran at the pavement not too far away.

"One beer, four glasses of water and three childrens' portion of pancakes. I know they love it."  
"Coming right up," I said as I finished scribbling the order down and took my leave to the restaurant kitchen.

* * *

"You're effective today, Matthew!" one of my colleges cheerfully said as he patted my back with a rough sailor hand. He laughed, his read ginger beard shaking dangerously. I smiled, commenting  
"Thanks. I feel great, like everything is alright in the world." I scratched the back of my head like I had said something too cheesy. "At least today, the sun is shining for once!" I tried to add.  
"Yer right!" my college stepped to the side and let me pass through to the section where personnel clothing were stored into separate lockers. Naturally, I always had the keys to my locker in one the back pockets on my jeans.

I unlocked the locker I had been given the day I stared and fetched my casual clothes. I brought them to my chest before heading to the personnel's' changing room. I quickly changed, left the uniform neatly folded in my locker and made my way out of the restaurant.  
I stopped by the nearest supermarket and bought some groceries for a awfully late dinner. Maybe it would be burnt wok? As I thought, my shoulder bumped bumped into someone's, making the stranger drop his carton of eggs.

The carton fell to the floor with betraying cracking sounds and made a undelicate splash of slime and goo on the previously clean supermarket floor.

_Fuck,_ I thought. If I ever had failed at trying to look like Edvard Munch's Scream, I couldn't be failing now.  
"I'm so sorry!" My hands shook with embarrassment as I looked at the man in front of me in the eyes. I quickly noted in hy head that his eye color was unusual, but didn't give it much thought. "I wasn't concentrating on where I was going!" I tried to brush half long yellow pieces of hair away from my eyes, but they didn't want to move, going back to where they were two seconds ago. My empathy gathering had failed.

As strange as it may be, the man smiled at my little panic with a (pleasant kind of?) smile. It was almost creepy how much he seemed to enjoy the awkward situation with his whole heart.  
"Please," he said while bending down and scooped the egg carton up from the floor into his arms. "Let me handle that. It's just some eggs. I'll pay for those, clean up that little mess on the floor and go buy another carton. There is no reason to worry."

I cringed as I noticed how he allowed his black driving gloves to get covered in slime. Disgusting, nasty egg slime. And summer was just around the corner. It would dry as a second layer on those gloves if he didn't get it off first.

* * *

I sat on my couch in the living room. Every now and then I told myself to stop thinking about the embarrassment of the day, but a strange feeling tugged inside me deep in my gut. It was no pleasant feeling at all. I dismissed the thought, turned off the lights in the house, starting with the living room. This house wasn't as big and fabulous as one could think, but it was enough for only me. Ever since my stubborn and overprotective brother left, I have felt kind of lonely, I must say.

Once I had entered the kitchen to turn the lights off over the stove, a shadow outdoors caught my attention. It looked like a tall, big built human. I stared like possessed over the rim of my glasses, looking for any movement.

My eyes snapped to the bushes separating my and my neighbor's property. Turned out it was only my new cat. Over the time of her yet short stay, she had taken a liking to going out of the house whenever I left and coming back around this hour with whatever she had caught. Mice and birds were weekly laid proudly on the door mat, much to my disgust.

When I looked for the shadow again, it was gone. Maybe the arrival of my cat startled whatever creature it was.

I lured the cat into my bedroom and cuddled it until we both slept tightly.

* * *

Two weeks passed. I worked at the restaurant as always, went grocery shopping and got calls from my mother -did whatever I had done before, over and over again.

Even though, after so many days since that unlucky "collision" I couldn't completely shake off some of the uncomfortable vibes I received. Not even the face of that unusual man could I forget. He and his weird glove wearing. Or maybe he just owned a pair of cold hands. Poor guy.

* * *

I went out of the restaurant and eyed a nice looking bakery nearby. Bergensgata Bakery was the name of the building containing delicious Norwegian pastries in many sizes and forms.

There, I bought a horn of bread containing meat and cheese and ate it while sitting on one of the park benches around Lille Nygårsvatnet (The Smallest Nygaardswater. It's a small (fake?) lake in Bergen).

Seeing the curious pigeons bouncing around in a funny manner on their small claw feet, head bouncing back and forth like a owl, I gave a hearty laugh and tore off a piece of the horn turning it into smaller bits so they could eat it without choking.

Halfway, I felt two ice cold eyes boring holes into my back. The feeling crept over my skin. I turned my head to see if someone was staring at me, but I couldn't know for sure- too many people moved at the same time, and if someone was they could have easily averted their eyes before I found theirs.

I don't know if I truly wanted to find out if I had either a passionate admirer, a creepy stalker or just a disturbed and unsure mind. Truth was, I had all of them. But all of them, minus the latter, was just one person.

* * *

_Ten minutes later:_  
I crumpled the paper bag which contained the horn and a coffee, searching for a trash can. They're not difficult to find- the city's nicely organized. I checked my watch: 14:25. I had enough time to walk back in a calm manner.

I had to cross the street to get back to the restaurant, no unusual activity at all, but what I experienced while doing it was not a usual thing in this area. Many people crossed at once, typical lunch-break-ended thing. It got crowded, people walked awfully slowly for the time of day- the sun shone high on the slow zombies.

As I walked, I felt a big hand rest on my waist from behind. My body stiffened, and I was afraid I was about to get robbed. I looked at the still far away other side of the road. Oh my god, it felt like it was an hour away, sweat beginning to appear on my forehead.

The hand started to move. It crawled its way under the hem of my shirt, the sensitivity of my skin telling me the hand was rough and that it was a right hand. _So_, my mind started. _It's a he. And he's standing right behind me._

My heart rate went up when he started slowly stroking the side of my stomach and hip with skilled fingers. _He's invading my personal space! I got to do something!_ I tried to pry away the hand, resulting in a loving final goodbye squeeze as we finally reached the other side of the street.

I let out a shaky breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding. Luckily he hadn't done anything to harm either me or my economy. I sort of felt lucky, but only sort of.

* * *

I hurried back to my workplace and got to working again. My body felt like it was burning where the unknown man had touched. I couldn't think about anything other than that, I didn't feel like thinking about casual stuff. I made a mental note: watch out for thieves, burglars and creeps.

Once home, I checked twice that the cat was inside, that the door was locked and every window sealed.

A/N: That's it for this chapter! Leave a review if you want more and tell me how I'm doing! I love reviews! 3)

-MobileWriter


	2. A stolen kiss

Chasing Matthew Chapter 2

(Hi again! I come to you with another chapter! Have a magically good time reading!)

_Last chapter:_  
My heart rate went up when he started slowly stroking the side of my stomach and hip with skilled fingers.  
My body felt like it was on fire where the man touched.

A week later:  
I sat in the glorious bathtub in my own home, enjoying a perfectly steaming hot bath. My body felt boiled, but I was not letting the moment be short-lived by hurrying.

"Ahhh... this is the life!" my head rested on the edge of the bathtub. I looked at the floor, not surprised that I'd once again left the clothes in a pile on the floor. I let myself make messes every once in a while- everybody does that sometimes.

"Hmm?" The cracking of the doorframe of wood belonging to the front door caught my attention. Was the neighbor on a sudden surprise visit to borrow a cup of milk? Again? _It could be my cat,_ I reminded myself. Truth was, I fed her quite a lot fish, but not in hundred years would she be fat enough to make anything cringe. Well, unless you counted one of my friends in.

I lifted myself out of the bathtub and wrapped a big towel around my torso and waist. In no way was wrapping a towel around my nipples girlish, it had definitely a manly charm with it. I dried my hair as quickly as a man could and walked to my bedroom.

On the little walk to the bedroom, I had to pass the top of the staircase. I looked down, anxiety ever present in my mind. I saw nobody and hoped it was nobody there. I heard my cat purr loudly from the downstairs. It was probably sitting on the couch, enjoying the sun. _But my cat doesn't like the sun,_ a voice sang to me in the back of my head. That was true.

I slipped a big t-shirt on over the towel and put on fresh underwear. I raked a hand through my half-short hair, something I only did unconsciously when stressed or afraid. The man in the mirror showed me myself- a healthy, young Canadian man with a whole life in front of myself. I had all the time in the world, all the time that I needed.

I went down the staircase with a rapidly beating heart. I sneaked alongside the wall to the kitchen, quickly looking for any signs of life.  
"Hello..?" my voice was carried around in the house by the walls. Nobody felt like answering, if there even _was_ somebody there.

I grabbed a kitchen knife, just in case. Better safe than sorry, right?

In the living room sat a man. The man was petting my cat, no; my cat lied on her tummy over his legs, eager to get her fur tenderly stoked. I stared at the odd pair. The cat often found it difficult to befriend other living creatures, so I found hard to understand why she would take interest in a potential burglar, at least a rude law breaker.

"Who are you," I asked. Yes, I asked, even though I somewhat remembered to have seen this man before. _He has gloved hands_. This man wore driving gloves too, if it wasn't the same person. His face was blurred, so I couldn't be sure.  
"Nobody," he answered, tone calm and collected, even a little bit depressed.

Goosebumps on my trained legs reminded me I should have dressed more properly. I pulled down the t-shirt I wore and crossed my arms to show I wasn't a scared rat, but the final boss of my own home. The cat was the first boss, and the (very silent, invincible) girl in my attic was the second boss. She can only be defeated if one enters the attic. Chances are low that ever happens.

I gave up on getting his name, the whole game would have been over if I got a name, wouldn't it?  
"Why are you here?" I waited patiently for him to pull some bullshit out of his ass about an alien abduction, any unbelievable bullshit, but much to my irritation, he kept his mouth shut. Not even a silly joke went past his lips. And this could have been the right moment for a comedian's debut!

"Leave that cat alone and get out of here, or else I'll have to call the police." I pointed the kitchen knife at him for good measure. He didn't look very impressed or surprised, and relaxed where he sat. Our eyes met. I could see numerous shades of cray in there.

"Oh, really? Aren't you the bad guy here, holding me at knifepoint and everything? I just randomly followed you home. Maybe I'm a little bit lost? Maybe you could show he the way to your bedroom?" he rose up and kicked me in the shin, making me drop the knife. I made sure to pull away from it so it couldn't harm me while falling. Fortunately, the cat was now nowhere to be seen.

He picked up the weapon after slipping off his gloves, and I fell on my bottom, trying to escape. His laugh was sinister and it could only belong to a true madman. I scrambled to my feet. They weren't helping me much- one shaking more than the other.

He left me no choice but to go upstairs. I ran up the stairs, always looking behind my back to make sure he was walking slowly. I seeked safety in my bedroom after locking the door.  
"Come out now," the intruder sang.  
"Never!" I answered, and not in the playful way.  
"Then I'll huff and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house away!" _the guy has the nerve to quote a children's book at such a time?! Unheard!_  
"Then keep on blowing!" I shouted back. "I won't move from my spot. I'm stuck here."

* * *

I cried out in fear as the door caved in to the psychotic man. He smirked like silly, very proud with himself.

"You won't get away from me now, comrade. Never ever." he used his large body to block the exit. "Now your body is mine to take."

I blinked twice. On the floor there stood no madman anymore. Down I went- down the stairs to find my phone. I dialed the police's number.  
"Hello? Have I come to the police?"  
"Yes," a soothing woman's voice told me. "This is the national Norwegian Politi*. What can I help you with?"

I explained to her what had happened, and she promised to send an officer to investigate the case.

I waited for the officer and quickly opened the door when I heard somebody knock. I easily opened the front door for the supposed to be officer.  
"It's good you've come, officer. I really am confused," I told the officer once he stepped over the doorframe.  
"Right. Where should we start looking for proof?" he asked. I took a good look on him before answering;  
"Upstairs, officer."

I led him upstairs to the room and wearily pointed to the door. "He broke down the door in order to get into the room where I earlier hid." I told him. A sudden hand on my shoulder confused me.  
"Sir, two things are wrong."  
"Oh?" my eyebrows rose in suspicion. _He_ smiled at me, and I immediately knew what.  
"Firstly, the door is not broken. Secondly, I'm not a cop."

I tried to run, but he had caught me in his strong arms. My eyes widened in fear.  
"No! Let me go!" I shouted and pushed on his chest. He grabbed my chin and brought our lips roughly together. _Wait, what?!_ I hit him and tried to kick with my legs, but he was too strong and I had no choice then to melt into his strong grip and sigh.

* * *

I woke up with cold sweat and heavy breathing. Sitting up in the bed, I grabbed my chest on the left side, feeling how my heart was drumming. What a wrong dream, if it even was a dream. I don't know anymore. So many weird things has happened in short time.

Translations: With the word Politi, I mean the Norwegian Police.

(This is not me trying to say homosexuality is wrong, I'm a lesbian myself! I thought it was charming to quote a children's book at such a time~ Leave a comment and tell me how it is, and how it can be improved, please! See ya all in next chapter!)


	3. Red wrench

Chasing Matthew chapter 3 (This is a AU, so our dear Canada will have strict religious parents!)

* * *

Last chapter:  
I tried to run, but he had caught me in his strong arms. My eyes widened in fear.  
"No! Let me go!" I shouted and pushed on his chest. He grabbed my chin and brought our lips roughly together. _Wait, what?!_ I hit him and tried to kick with my legs, but he was too strong and I had no choice then to melt into his strong grip and sigh.

I woke up confused and sweaty.

* * *

The sweat had gathered at my brow by the time I finally woke up. By gods, I had truly dreamed about something sinful, and worse was it that I was involved. I tried to "wash my hands clean" with a quick shower afterwards deciding I needed to get off the grime my body produced, including shame and self disgust.

I couldn't be gay or just a little bit homo, I simply didn't want to think of the consequences from my parents' side. Because of their strict mentality, I always have convinced myself I love boobs. Girls can be motherly and charming in their own way. They would financially leave me if I would be anything but straight. "Have you found a girlfriend yet," they sometimes ask with a curious tone.

Thursday (some days later):  
I went to work earlier than I usually do on a Thursday. My boss greeted me with a humble smile.  
"Good morning." I went past him to change into the uniform, but his voice stopped me. "Wait, Willams. I have a side job for you- if you're willing to take it, that is."

I looked at him with curiosity. I would do pretty much to escape the daily _serve-with-a-smile_ routine if it was possible.  
"Aha. What kind of side job is this?" I asked him.  
"Ah, it's about our last locale. We thought about finally selling it to some rich businessmen. The problem is, however, it's yet not been cleaned there. An unclean building is nothing more than an unattractive building, no? How about devoting this workday to cleaning it?" My boss looked apologetic, but the promise of getting a good prize of the locale burned stronger.

"Why not," I laughed. "I might use some days on that one!"

* * *

In the locale:  
I rolled up the sleeves of the uniform shirt I wore that day. It was absolutely my favorite shirt in the restaurant's uniform collection and I didn't want to get it too dirty. In my hands I held a bucket with steaming hot water and various cleaning equipment. I was ready to turn the locale upside down if I didn't succeed in cleaning it all.

I began on the inside of the dirty hell with a steady hand. Nothing could go wrong from here. I was just cleaning, and cleaning I would do. For several days.

* * *

Ivan:

Ivan passed his workmates on one of the construction sites in the city. They were high up in the sky. It was risky, but Ivan liked taking risks, especially those that came out of the blue like sudden urges. Like pushing coleges off high grounds so they couldn't move out of excitement for months and years. Truth be told, Ivan was the only one excited here, as much as he knew.

The Russian man felt a well known vibration in his pocket, the silent alarm for lunch-time. He picked up his phone and turned the alarm off before fetching his pack of cigarettes and wallet. Out he went of the construction site. He planned on smoking and buying something to eat.

* * *

Normal pov:

I felt I had done enough on the inside of the former locale and decided to go outside to wash the windows. They were dirty, and nothing to be proud of. Yet.

Ivan:

He let his gut lead him where he ended up. He stood before an old, blue restaurant, not too well kept. The man on the outside cleaning the one of the windows caught his attention. He had definitely seen him before, but he couldn't recall where. He couldn't be important in any way. Ivan walked silently up to the man he knew as Matthew W. What could the internet tell keep secret for this man if it didn't see him as a threat? Nothing.

He laid his arms against Matthew's neck, watching the man struggle. It almost looked like a hug. Ivan couldn't do much about the situation; it was simply just what he felt like doing. The poor man beneath him would pass out soon if he wasn't careful enough, and Ivan was never careful.

* * *

Matthew's pov: (sort of like a flashback)

I dried off the window with care. I hummed a song while doing it. A sudden feeling of dread crept over me as I picked up the presence of another human behind me, maybe it was an animal. I didn't know.  
"Hello?"

The greeting I got was two strong arms pressing against my throat. I dropped everything in my hands as the person dragged me inside by the arms against my neck. It was painful, I couldn't understand why I was being attacked. "Stop.. this!" I shouted as I desperately tried to claw the person's hands away.

I made as much noise as possible whilst trying to escape this... man?  
"Shut up!" His voice was rough and deep as he hissed into my ear. He slammed my head into to the brick wall to the right, making me cry out in pain. He smiled. Smiled as the sun shone and birds flew outside. I would still not give up- I was _yet_ conscious.

While I still was in a dase, he grabbed a red wrench that lied nearby and tackled me to the ground as I tried to run, using his weight to hold me down.  
"Get off me, you sick dog!" I snarled at him and tried to hold him away by pushing at his shoulders. My eyes widened as he hit the side of my head, and that could be called the finishing number. But I wasn't downed just yet.

I felt rough hands clench at my throat and closed my eyes in defeat. It was to let him lower his guard. He loosened his grip and asked in a curious tone;  
"Are you done now? Or do you want more?" I slowly opened my eyes and looked at him with teary eyes. Maybe I was dragging the act too far?  
"Why are you doing this?" I silently asked.  
"Because I want to," he answered before giving my head a painful meeting with the wrench he had.

My eyes rolled back in my skull and the eyelids closed themselves against my will. I did by no means trust him, but my fate was in his hands.

He dropped the wrench and let my body lie there more or less lifeless as he wondered what the heck he was to do next. After all, this had been a sudden urge of his. He asked himself: do you save the victim or do you worsen its condition once the damage is done..?

* * *

Ivan growled as he snapped back to his usual self and discovered what he'd done. It wasn't fun to watch, that was true. He come up with a crazy plan that would definitely put him in jail if he was caught. But why the hell not when you already have somebody's blood on your hands and will end up in jail anyway?

Ivan searched Matthew's clothing and found the former locale's keys. He ungracefully dragged the man into the cooling room and sat him against the wall, rolled in a blanket. He locked the doors and left the building to go back to work.

After all, nothing could change the fact of that the lunch-break was over.

A/N (Holy shit, you will have to wait for the next chapter..! Mooohahahaha! Please send me a review, I love those! 3)


	4. The actual kidnapping

Russian Trade chapter 4, Oh damn, that underwear

Hi everyone. I'm sorry I've been such a big scumbag again and left my stories rest. It started out as a writer's blok, but now it feels like I've upgraded my writing once again! I thought of this chapter as something very difficult to write. But don't worry, I've written the end of this story. Sorry again for being a douche. Here ya all go, cause ya all deserve it! (Ohoho, such devoted followers! At least this one is more popular than my fictionpress stories.) :-D

* * *

Ivan came with a deep moan, clenching his fingers into Matthew's hair. Matthew grimaced as the bitter taste of cum invaded Matthew's mouth. The salty taste made him want to spit it out, but the big man towering over him gave him a look that seriously made him doubt.

"Open up your mouth and show me. Do not swallow it just yet." Ivan dragged the last word out mockingly as he eyed the blonde man on his knees. The Canadian parted his lips weakly and stuck out his semen coated tongue. "Such a good boy," Ivan praised warmly, stroking his golden hair. "You look so pretty like this, Matvey. Makes me want to go for another round. But I wouldn't, it would make you felt spent, like a cheap whore. God knows we don't let those in here."

Ivan tucked himself inside his pants and realized one detail he'd missed. His gun didn't rest in his hand anymore. It laid in shaking Matthew's pale hand. "The gun," he said and reached out his hand to get it. "I suggest you give it to me. Now." Matthew shook his is head weakly. He looked like he might give it back, then kissing the toes of his captor.

''No,'' the Canadian protested. 'I can't give in once more.' ''I was not made to always obey.'' The Russian giggled slightly at his guest. Matthew's confused purple eyes met the taller man's eyes. 'Why's he so happy? I don't understand.'

''You really are naive, my love. One phone call and your beloved brother could be taken out of school. Maybe I'll hire a madman like myself to shoot him in the back of his head. If there is anyone like me.''

''What?!'' the blonde man screeched with a mix of anger and terror in his voice. ''Have you no heart!? I give you your damn gun, and you leave him be!''  
Matthew handed his captor the gun before retreating to the corner by his bed to sulk and to think up plans to escape. Ivan turned in the doorway.

''I'll bring a doctor over after dinner to get that bullet out of your shoulder. I guess it can be dangerous to have it stay there much longer.'' he then left, locking the door. 'If *_he_* isn't the dinner. One could never know what's going on inside of their heads,' Matthew whispered to himself.

Later on:

The doctor seemed old and scared. His hands shook over every damn thing he did.

''Lie down in the bed, my boy.'' he pointed to the bed with a shaking claw. It sounded dirty, but an old man couldn't do much damage, could he? 'There is no way in hell I'll let him infect any wound of mine if he fails,' the blond man thought furiously, but lied down anyway after hesitating a bit.

''You there.'' the doc pointed at Ivan. ''Restrain him so he cannot escape, because this will hurt a lot. I forgot to bring my anesthetics today. Every day I forget something or two, you see. The importance of the items I forget can vary from safe to life threatening sometimes. Best to make it feel like I didn't forget them. Sit on his back and do not forget to hold his arms down by his shoulders.''

The Russian mob boss climbed on top of the wounded man, pinning down his arms after making himself comfortable. Matthew did not feel at ease- his ribcage was being crushed against the unforgiving mattress.

The doctor had his vulnerable back to them as he plucked out his items. A scalpel, bandages, some small anti-infection bottle and a rag. He lied them down on the nightstand as they weren't in use. One cut there, one cut here and the bullet was quickly out after some pained grunts and embarrassing moans. He let Matthew sit in the bed as he wrapped bandage over the shoulder and his torso.

The doctor smiled with glee as he took in the sight of another patient of his. ''Well… I guess that's it, then. See ya all crazy mobsters later, just don't gun me down first!'' the doctor gathered the rag, bandages and the anti-infection bottle, dropping the items into his bag before he left the room. What he hadn't noticed was how innocently his trusty, if not rusty scalpel lied on the nightstand as he left the room.

Matthew stood up and stretched his arms as much as he could with the bandages on.  
"I guess I'll just go-" his body was pulled back onto the bed as Ivan pulled him in. His warm, big and strong arms wrapped themselves around his waist, closing the space between their flesh, bones and pounding hearts.  
"I'm very happy you exist," the Russian man whispered. Matthew felt a weak flutter in his chest. "But I see one flaw. Where is the marking I put on everybody I hold dear? I don't see it."

Matthew looked innocently up at his captor, not understanding what this marking could be.  
"What kind of marking?" Ivan smiled with glee as he thought about it.  
"A marking that is carved deep in your flesh. I think it would look very nice if you got a scar with the letters I.B. Everybody would know who that is."

The Canadian tried to get out of the sticky situation with a gentle:  
"I would rather not have one even if you care very much for me." as he tried to wriggle his body out of Ivan's tight hold, resulting in the opposite. Ivan laughed as he tightened the grip.  
"It's sweet of you to try to be polite. I'm very sorry dear, but you have little choice here but to obey to what I tell you to do. I wish to carve a sunflower next to I.B. into your right inner thigh. I can see it in my mind."

Matthew's breathing came out quick as he felt panic crash into him. He pushed against Ivan's arms and kicked with his feet, but he had no chance against the brute that most probably have fought bears before. He breathed out and slumped against Ivan's body in defeat. "Have you given up now?" the man behind him asked.  
"I guess so." Ivan smiled widely as he took Matthew's hand and led him to the bathroom.  
"Come! "

Ivan took hold of Matthew's hips and lifted him up to sit by the sink. He spread the young mans legs, much to his embarrassment. Ivan pulled his knee long pants down, leaving his captive in only his underwear patterned with yellow fishes. "that underwear needs to go." as his hand rested on the waistband of Matthew's boxers, the owner gave a battle cry and grabbed the pestering hand to lead it stray from its original intentions.

"Don't touch what ain't yours!" the Canadian threatened.

Ivan chuckled. He overpowered the other man with ease and held both his hands in one hand as he slipped off Matthew's underwear, making him all red on the face.

"Who's strong and mighty now? I see you enjoy your position, what a pervert you are. I'm beginning to think you're not as innocent as I thought." Ivan fetched a rope and the scalpel the doctor had forgotten and tied his captive's hands together before leaning in to carve whatever he thought was necessary.

"Don't look!" Matthew said, ready to burst from the exposing angle he sat in.

"I do whatever I want." Matthew winced at the pain as the scalpel was dragged along his sensitive skin. Something he realized soon was that he got turned on by this activity. 'Shit. Think about old grandmas.' he thought.

''This isn't as sharp as it should be, but it'll do. I will cut even deeper if you dare scream. Just clench your teeth together.''

A/N

I'm honestly worried about how Ivan goes from batshit insane to approved friendly family man (and vice versa). Hahahaha! :-D

- MobileWriter will try to be quick this time.


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